


Don't Go

by 2733me



Category: The Dark Artifices Series - Cassandra Clare
Genre: Beginnings of relationship?, Character Death, Comforting, Grieving, Kit holds Ty. A lot, M/M, Post-Book 2: Lord of Shadows, Spoilers for Book 2: Lord of Shadows, heartbreaking cuteness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-31
Updated: 2017-08-31
Packaged: 2018-12-21 23:46:42
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 825
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11955240
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/2733me/pseuds/2733me
Summary: "Black for hunting through the nightFor death and mourning the color's whiteGold for a bride in her wedding gownAnd red to call the enchantment downWhite silk when our bodies burnBlue banners when the lost returnFlame for the birth of a NephilimAnd to wash away our sins.Gray for the knowledge best untoldBone for those who don't grow oldSaffron lights the victory marchGreen to mend our broken heartsSilver for the demon towersAnd bronze to summon wicked powers-Shadowhunter children's rhyme”― Cassandra Clare, City of Heavenly Fire





	Don't Go

Kit had been surprised when Emma had handed him the mourning clothes. To him white was the color of light, of happiness, and of weddings. To wear it to a funeral seemed... disrespectful. But standing here next to the Blackthornes, it was suddenly made right.  
Livvy had been white. Livvy had been light and energy. She had been wild and steadfast, loving and generous. She had been the most joyful person Kit had ever known. White matched Livvy. And it also matched them. It matched the numbness in Kit's heart, it matched Julian's white knuckles tighightly grippin his parabati's hand, it matched the faces of Mark and Helen, Drucilla's silent tears, and Ty's vacent expression. It would have been wrong to honor her in any other color, Kit thought.  
The ceremony had long been over. A blur of indecernable faces had passed them, expressing meaningless condolences. Julian had thanked them politely, but they were all glad when they were finally alone. Kit turned to leave as well, but was stopped suddenly by a cracked voice.  
"Where are you going?"  
It was Ty. Kit glanced at him in surprise. This was the first he had heard Ty speak since...  
"I don't belong here. I'm not family." Kit said.  
"Yes. You do." Ty said simply  
Kit saw the other boy's eyes flick quickly away from his face and return to staring blankly at the still smoking pyre. Kit went to stand beside him, and turned his own face up towards the sky, watching the thick smoke that was once his very first friend disperse into the air.

____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________ 

That night Kit aimlessly wondered the halls of the manor house. Unable to sleep, he had gotten out of bed, pulled on a T-shirt and gone exploring. Or so he told himself. He honestly could not remember where he was, nor did he care. He just kept going past halways and closed doors following a silent pull. Eventually, Kit found himself standing outside a door. Unsure why he had stopped, Kit was about to step away when he heard a crash from inside. Without knocking he rushed in, and saw Ty. 

Ty was disheveled. His white mourning shirt was wrinkled and only half buttoned. His hair looked as though he had been trying to pull it out. And he was shaking uncontrollably. Without a word Kit stepped forward and pulled Ty into his arms, squeezing him tightly.

Looking for the source of the crash Kit's eyes widened. Ty's room, usually so pristine, had been torn apart. Kit saw what looked to be about a hundred or so pipe cleaners laying across the bedsheet and realized they had once been Ty's focus ball. Blankets lay crumpled at the floor by the bed, his books lay haphazardly across the room having evidently been thrown. The screen of Ty's iPod had been smashed, and his earbuds lay in a tangled mess by the nightstand.

"Harder." Ty whispered.

Kit obliged, circling one arm tighter around Ty's waist while the other snaked up between his shoulder blades. 

"Tighter." Ty insisted.

Kit cradled the other boy's head as he crushed their bodies together, burying his face into Ty's thick black hair. They stood there for a long time, the golden-haired boy enveloping the quivering shadowhunter. Eventually Ty's shaking lessened, and the boy began to sob. 

"It's my fault." Ty muffled into Kit's chest. "It's my fault she's gone."

"No, no Ty," Kit murmured. "You can't think that."

"But it is! I should have been there to protect her. She asked me for years to be her Pārbati, and I refused. Maybe if I had said yes... maybe... ...and Annabel... I'm the one who asked her to come. She came to Idris because of the letter I wrote. It's my fault."

"You can't think of it like that, Ty. If you had been Pārbati she still would have... and Annabel is mad. You couldn't have known. We all believed her testimony would save us. No one could have predicted she would snap. It was no one's fault, Ty."

"How can you believe that? You should hate me. Weren't you two... wasn't she... I mean, I saw you kiss her."

"Yes, I kissed her. Once. But we weren't like that. I will miss her very much, she was my friend and I loved her, but never like that. Not in a romantic way. She understood that too."

Wet sniffling silence met this pronouncement. Kit's shirt was soaked through with tears and snot. Gradually, Ty began to grow limp in Kit's embrace. Kit guided Ty to the bed, shoving the array of pipe cleaners aside and pulling the blankets up to cover him.

"Don't go." Ty pleaded quietly. "Don't leave me. Never leave me."

Kit kicked off his shoes and crawled under the covers and again wrapped his arms around Ty, their bodies curling into each other.

"Never." He breathed into Ty's ear. "I am going to stay."


End file.
